Visualization Tools Revisited

Six months ago I used Wordle to create a visual representation of my blog (see October's Wordle Wordle Wordle). By looking at the word cloud of my labels that was generated by Wordle, it was easy to see that I wrote quite frequently about public history, digital history, UWO, museums, human rights and the Holocaust. None of that is a big surprise when you consider that I'm a student at UWO in the Public History MA Program and that I am taking courses which deal with public history, digital history and museums and that I have a strong interest in human rights issues and the Holocaust.

In that entry, I wondered what a similar visualization would look like in six months or a year. Would it change drastically and reflect new interests and experiences? Or, would it remain the same, reflecting a constant interest in certain topics?

As you can see by looking at the word cloud at the top of this blog post, the visualization has gotten considerably more complex and diverse over the last six months (I have added dozens of new labels to the cloud). However, I would argue that it still largely reflects the initial trends of my blog. The single exception to this relative continuity is the inclusion of new labels which show an increased awareness of and interest in topics relating to local history and heritage (who knew Durham Region had such fascinating history?!).

That's a mildly interesting observation to make, but so what? What can a visual representation of my blog tell you that a quick skim of my labels list cannot? Sadly, I'm afraid the answer is probably nothing.

In October I had a cautious optimism for the use of digital visualization tools as techniques to help with the data mining process. Now, I am thoroughly unconvinced as to their usefulness. It might take me 2 or 3 seconds longer to scroll through the alphabetized list of labels that I have used in my blog since its inception than it does to glance at word cluster like the one above, but it tells me exactly the same thing. In fact, scrolling the list of labels actually saves me considerable time when you consider that I had to first go to the Wordle website and input my data before I could create the word cloud in question. Also, I can't help but notice that the picture that was produced by the generator is now so crowded with new, low-level labels that it has become an eye strain to try and extract any but the most obvious data from it.

In my humble opinion, Wordle and similar word/tag cloud generators may create pretty pictures, but they are a bust as far as their usefulness to the study of history goes.

But what about other visualization tools? Surely I can't paint all tools with the same brush, can I? You wouldn't think so. The esteemed Dan Cohen certainly doesn't. He used different visualization technologies in his research to map whether Americans prayed or watched CNN after hearing about the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001. Cohen stands by the fact that it was only through mapping the results of his survey onto a satellite image of the USA provided by Google Earth that he was able to observe that people in rural areas of the United States were far more likely to pray after hearing of the attacks than they were to watch CNN. Conversely, people in urban areas were far more likely to turn to CNN for information and solace than they were to pray.

So it was with this conflicting ringing endorsement by Dan Cohen (digital history guru) and growing personal skepticism that I attended the Historical Geographic Information Systems (Historical GIS) lecture given several weeks ago by Don LaFreniere, a colleague from the Geography Department. Don is a huge fan of GIS and the objective of his lecture was three-fold:

1) To teach us the basics of navigating GIS software
2) To introduce us, as historians, to the potential applications of GIS programs to our research questions and future careers in public history
3) To explain how he is currently using GIS visualization tools in his research process

Extremely knowledgeable and enthusiastic, Don did a fantastic job of patiently leading even the most technologically challenged of us through his tutorial. But even Don's enthusiasm couldn't convince me of the usefulness of visualization techniques. In order to get to the point of visualization Don and a team of undergraduates had to spend more than two years compiling a database of census materials from which they drew the information they mapped using the GIS software. For my money, it was the database that was truly the incredible feat, not the mapping we were able to do with the data points. Using the spreadsheets that he had created, we were able to search for specific criteria and filter the overall findings according to our desired specifications. At this point we were able to see all of the relevant details and make (in my opinion) the same observations that we were able to make after applying the visualization tools to the data set.

I don't know. Maybe I'm missing something. Maybe, as Sara Sirianni suggests in her blog post about the workshop, visualization techniques are the greatest thing since sliced bread. Maybe.

For now I remain skeptical.

Reflections on a Semester of Digital History

Growing up, whenever I had a problem with the computer, I would go to my big brother and ask him for help. Far more tech savvy than I, Dave (who later went to school for computer programming) usually had the answer or at least an idea of how to go about finding it. However, in the way of big brothers, he also quickly lost patience in my constant requests for help and eventually resorted to pointing at the DOS manual every time I asked him a question and telling me to figure it out for myself. At 12, 15 and even 18 years-old, I stubbornly refused to go anywhere near those 1000+ pages of incomprehensibly techno-babble. That’s likely how I ended up in the Public History program at UWO faced with a course in Digital History, only passably competent with computers and the internet and with not the slightest idea of how either of them really worked. More importantly, nor did I have the first clue about how I could make either of them work for me in my future career(s) in public history and teaching.

Fortunately, over the course of the semester my understanding of and competence with digital tools has increased enormously. As has my understanding of how these tools can and should be used by academics and public historians to inform and improve upon the practice of history. Through readings, assignments and class discussion, I have had the opportunity to learn skills such as HTML, CSS, website design, image manipulation, data mining, visualization techniques and digital mapping skills. I have reconnected with my love of blogging and resigned myself to using social networking tools (like Twitter) as a method of staying connected with peers and colleagues and as a way to quickly access and/or share information about developments being made in the field. I’ve learned more about copyright than I probably ever needed to know and took part in conversations about the merits of open versus closed sources, augmented versus virtual realities, web 2.0 tools, crowd sourcing, mashups, the Deep Web and dozens of other topics that I didn’t even know existed before I took this course.

But learning is rarely a linear or simple process and along the way I encountered my share of frustration with the course material. Some of what I read flat-out remained outside of my grasp of understanding (like those pesky APIs I just couldn’t visualize). Or, like Braden, some of what I thought I had grasped through readings proved fleeting as I listened to my peers discuss what they had taken away from this or that author’s work. Still, just being exposed to some of that material was learning enough... for now.

Of course, my most constant frustration during the semester was the roadblocks I always seemed to hit when working with the digital tools for one of our mini assignments on the basics of digital history. Even on those tasks that seemed simple at the outset, I knew that there was something there, lurking, lying in wait to trip me up the instant I got smug and thought I had it nailed. But, while understanding why historians should use something is great, actually being able to apply that understanding to the manipulation of the tools for the betterment of the field, is critical. This is why, even though several of these assignments made me want to join Shelagh in throwing my laptop across the room, I applied a considerable amount of what I like to think of as plucky “stickwithitness” (“stickwithitness” being the homely cousin of “truthiness”) and (usually) came out with something concrete to show for my efforts.

Except for this one time...

For good or for bad, I often used writing or editing posts for this blog as a way to put off doing other, more pressing work for one of my classes this semester. I’m not sure what assignment it was that I was putting off, but at the end of October, I suddenly decided that it was the perfect time (read: the worst possible time) to redesign my blog layout. Inspired by a fancier layout used by one of last year’s crop of PH students, Krista McCracken, I decided to hunt up a new, more artistic layout for my blog. The one I eventually settled on was Notepad Chaos (although, as a history nerd, the cheeky ‘40s pinup-inspired Hello Sailor was a close second).

Although it took me the better part of an evening to choose my desired layout (something fun yet reasonably professional), that was the easy part. After downloading the file, I realized that it was zipped and I didn’t have any software (like WinZip) on my computer with which to unzip it. I got that problem squared away and overcame several other minor hurdles to get the layout up on my blog only to discover that I wasn’t able to personalize the darn thing like I could with standard Blogger templates.

Before our Digital History course, this type of obstacle would have been it for me; I didn’t have the tools, knowledge or confidence with which to troubleshoot this type of problem. As a result, my past inclination would have been to throw in the towel and either accept the template as is or revert back to my original Blogger layout. However, after being introduced to the basics of HTML via the W3 School’s HTML Tutorial for our first webpage assignment, I was now able to take that shaky next step.

I viewed the page source for the layout and tried to scan it for code that looked familiar, altering pieces here and there and then previewing the results to see if I’d managed to change the design elements that I was hoping to. The process was one of painstakingly slow trial and error, but I eventually got the superficial stuff (font colours, sizes, date-stamps, etc.) the way I wanted it.

My satisfaction was short-lived, however. I loved the colourful background of the layout, but I wasn’t happy with the 3-Column design. Compared with the 2-Column design that I had previously been using in my blog, I found the new layout crowded and distracting to the reader. I wanted to get rid of that third column (both in terms of its content and the coloured square that differentiated that space from the rest of the page’s background). I also wanted to extend my text boxes so that I could write in lines that were more than 3 inches wide, thus visually shortening my often lengthy blog posts. I struggled with it for longer than I care to admit, fixing the text problem but remaining stumped by the background issue. Eventually I had to admit that I was euchred – I could slap some make-up on her, but I still didn’t have the skill to give the old broad a facelift.

(Note: I’m pretty sure that the piece that I needed to be able to manipulate was in an image file rather than in the HTML code and therefore out of my reach).

In the end, I decided to go back to a clean and simple Blogger template (which is not as easy a process as one might think). At one point I was forced to delete my blog in order to reinstate the original format and then spent the next forty nearly heart-stopping minutes unable to find the file and fearful that I had lost the entire thing. Thankfully, I eventually managed to recover it.

I didn’t relate the above anecdote in order to pat myself on the back but as an attempt to illustrate how useful I feel this Digital History course, especially its more hands on aspects, has been. In just under four months I was able to learn, understand and utilize basic principles of HTML and apply that knowledge within a new context with confidence. Even more surprisingly, I now had not only the skill but also the inclination to troubleshoot in areas I never would have thought myself capable of. It’s these more intangible outcomes that I know I will carry with me into future historical or educational endeavors. And the best (and perhaps most daunting) part is that this is only the beginning; even after taking this class, I have barely scratched the surface of what historians are capable of using the internet for.

One of the things that I will definitely take away from this course is the belief that the internet is not an unknowable and scary place that historians should avoid at all costs. In fact, those that retreat back into their cramped offices filled with dusty books and use computers only as a modernized typewriter on which to peck out their latest article, are doing themselves and their field a disservice. Thankfully, as time passes more and more historians seem to be embracing the internet and everything that one can do with it - the future is looking bright.

Digitizing Books Faster Than the Speed of Copyright

The Internet is arguably the greatest thing to happen to reading since the invention of the printing press (I can’t help myself – here I have to give credit to the Koreans, not the Germans, for their invention of the first metal printing press in 1377). While some detractors might rail against the fact that the Internet is changing the way that we read, it’s also true that efforts in digitization have forever changed (in a positive way) how we access that content.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last seven or eight years, you’re likely aware that websites such as Google Books, the Gutenberg Project and the Infinite Archive (to name but a prominent few) have been working to digitize millions of books that have entered the public domain since they were originally published. Our Digital History assignment for this week is to peruse the books section of the Eaton’s Fall and Winter Catalogue from 1913-1914, choose a half dozen books and attempt track down full online copies of them.

I decided to start my book search with Anna Sewell’s Black Beauty: the autobiography of a horse and Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass. My reasons for starting with these books were two-fold: first, I’ve always had a soft spot for classic children’s literature. Secondly, I have a sneaking suspicion that anything in the Western canon that has had its copyright protection expire is going to be relatively easy to find since, according to Choudhury et al., the more widely quoted the text, the more likely it is that a well-transcribed digital version exists.

Sure enough, Google Books returned a search for “Black Beauty” in 0.17 seconds, with the top result a full-view of its 1922 printing. A search for Carroll’s book was similarly simple. The novel was found easily enough in Google Books (as plain text only), but out of curiosity I also typed it into Google’s search engine just to see what I could come up with. Oddly, the second search result (even before that on Google Books) was for a full copy at Literature.org and the third was the complete text as found on Project Gutenberg’s website.

Still within the Western canon, my next book was Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. Originally published in 1850, it was a snap to find a copy of an 1869 printing on Google Books. Presumably with a classic such as this, it would be just as easy to find it on a multitude of other websites as well.

After Dickens I decided to branch out and try to find some of the more obscure titles that were advertised in the Eaton’s Catalogue. I’d never heard of Rosa N. Carey’s Not Like Other Girls before, so I tried to look it up on Wikipedia to see if I could find a basic plot outline and original publish date. No such luck. As far as I can tell, Wikipedia doesn’t have this information available. But apparently this book isn’t nearly as obscure as I thought it was as I was able to find copies in Google Books, the Internet Archive and Open Library.

My fifth book was Robinson’s Book of Conundrums, a book that claims it’s a “veritable dispenser of cheerfulness and dispeller of the blues.” As much as I wanted to find this book, I couldn’t have done it if my life depended on it. A number of similarly titled books come up Google Books, but none that fit exactly. The search was made a bit more difficult by the fact that I was only able to make out the author’s last name (Allen) in the Eaton’s catalogue. Alas, maybe my blues just weren’t meant to be dispelled.

My sixth and final foray into the world of online books was to look for Fred T. Hodgson’s Modern Carpentry: A Practical Manual (Vol. 2) (1917). Despite (or maybe because of) being reprinted several times, only a snippet view is available of this book on Google Books. The Internet Archive, on the other hand, had links to two full-length digital copies of the book, one more effective than the other. The first version was plain text only, something that puzzled me a bit considering that a carpentry book without pictures and diagrams seems a little counter intuitive. But I.A. came through in the end and linked me to a page-by-page scanned version of the original text, diagrams and pictures included.

It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I love books. I like their look. I like their smell. Call me old-fashioned, but I like physically holding an object as I’m reading and being required to turn pages as I progress. In my day-to-day life I read a lot of content online, but I’m still somewhat of a sceptic when it comes to reading entire books using the Internet. It just doesn’t feel the same.

Having used the Google Books website before, I was relatively familiar with the site’s layout and the fact that their books are page-by-page scans where each page is presented individually to the reader who will then scroll through them “vertically” (for lack of a better word). With all of the money Google has to put into projects such as this, it isn’t surprising that their website has a slick, user-friendly design. That said, I still feel as if there is something missing from the reader’s experience when I view content in this format. Project Gutenberg’s “read online” option is positively stark in comparison to Google Books’ flashier site. It still allows you view pages individually, but its plain text approach is perhaps just a little too plain for my liking; it feels a little soulless.

Open Library, on the other hand, is positively “homey” in comparison to the other two sites. It doesn’t seem to have the same selection as some of the bigger websites in terms of number of titles available, but I enjoyed that they’ve designed their scans to look like real books. Readers get to see two pages presented side-by-side and animation gives the effect that you are flipping through the pages just as you would in a real book. On top of that you still get the visuals like wear and tear, stains on a page and writing in the margins that you would from any well-loved print book. This format was definitely friendlier to this user.

Still, it’s not the same.

And it’s because it’s not the same that I don’t think that ebooks and the digitization of existing books are going to make print books obsolete any time soon. They may eventually, but I doubt that it’s anything I need to be afraid of seeing in my lifetime. But who knows, as quickly as technology is moving, I may be eating my words by 2050. Of course, by then they’d be nothing more than words on a computer screen, so eating them might prove rather difficult.

Searching for Sophie Scholl Online is Like Trying to Find the Smallest Kid in a Game of Hide-and-Go-Seek

For the purpose of our latest Digital History assignment, our class has been asked to write a brief introductory guide to some of the sources and tools that are available online about any subject of our choosing. The only stipulations are that the topic must be something we are personally passionate about, has a historical dimension and can be boiled down to just a handful of essential websites or methods of information trapping.

In honour of this year’s Holocaust Education Week theme of defiance and resistance, I decided to focus my Digital History assignment along the same lines. I understand, however, that there’s no possible way to concisely treat the topic of defiance and resistance without doing an injustice to the millions of people affected by the Holocaust and their tens of millions of acts of resistance, both large and small. Instead, I decided to narrow my focus to Sophie Scholl’s participation in the White Rose, a non-violent organization made up of students from the University of Munich and their philosophy professor, Kurt Huber. In brief, Sophie and her brother, Hans, were caught distributing anti-Nazi leaflets on university property. They, along with their friend, Christoph, were then arrested, tried for treason, found guilty and executed within a week. Soon after, most other members of the student group were arrested, tried and executed. Few survived the war.

Now that we have the basics, it’s time for the research:

Like any good student, I know that I’m not supposed to admit to using Wikipedia as my “go-to” source for quick introductory searches. But I do. Sue me. As long as the person using Wikipedia is aware of its downfalls and refrains from sourcing it (just as you would any other encyclopaedia), I think that it is a pretty good starting point, if for nothing else than for mining the footnotes and helping to develop stronger research questions. With that in mind, you may want to check out the Wikipedia pages for Sophie Scholl and/or The White Rose.

If this were any other research topic I would likely head from Wikipedia to Google to continue my search. However, since this particular search concerns personalities and organizations concerned with the Holocaust, I prefer to make the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website my next visit. Although I was disappointed in the lack of biographical information that the USHMM provided, I was pleased to see that they had included a list of print resources to consult at a later time, links to FAQs about the group, a short memoir by one of the surviving members (which I will get to in just a moment) and educational resources about resistance during the Holocaust. The general affect of the USHMM site is to give a reader an inclination as to how Sophie and the other members of the White Rose fit into the narrative of the Second World War as a whole.

The aforementioned memoir by one of the few surviving members of the group, Dr. George J. Wittenstein, is reached via The History Place website (specifically its Points of View section). This source offers the reader a unique opportunity to see the effect that time has had on the recollections of someone who was in the thick of things and somehow managed to escape with their life. In his memoir Wittenstein introduces many of the key members of the White Rose, discusses the leaflets written by Hans Scholl, Alex Schmorell and Kurt Huber, the trials and the aftermath. He also includes selections from the leaflets, as well as partial trial transcripts from their sentencings.

The Shoah Education Project is also a helpful site when looking for unique information on the White Rose that I haven’t found anywhere else on the web. That is, Dr. Elizabeth Kirkley Best provides a list of the members of the White Rose and what became of them. It is interesting to see from the chart the different ways that men and women were charged for their involvement in the same organization.

The last website that I would like to suggest anyone interested in Sophie Scholl or the White Rose organization look up is the one run by The Holocaust Research Project. This website has a number of pages devoted to Sophie Scholl and the White Rose, but its biggest triumph is that it has translations for all six leaflets in their archives. That one’s a gem.

In addition to my usual search techniques, I thought I would try a few different avenues this time around and see if any of them were effective for the purposes of this assignment. Turns out, they’re largely not.

The first thing I tried was imputing my search terms into Google Search and then attempting to use the Google Wonder Wheel to see what, if any, different search results it would lead me to. I use the word “attempt” because as soon as I would click on the Wonder Wheel option, Google would bounce me out of the specialty search and back onto their main page. Strike one.

Next I tried image searching via Flickr (instead of using my old, reliable Google Image Search). and found that this worked with mediocre results – I found some images, but it was inefficient, largely disorganized and the results were underwhelming in terms of numbers. In short, my results using Google Image Search were both faster and better. Strike two.

Out of sheer curiosity, I then tried Google Timelines for Sophie Scholl, Hans Scholl and the White Rose to see if I could unearth any new information. All of the timelines were sparse and largely unhelpful. Strike Two... and a half.

I also thought it might be neat to search for “Sophie Scholl” in different blog search engines, so I put the term into Google Blogs and into IceRocket’s blog section. I got very different hits on both search engines, but neither one was very satisfactory. With IceRocket I was bombarded with foreign language web pages. After I waded through the majority of those and through the Google Blogs results, I discover that the majority of people that are blogging about Sophie Scholl are doing so in response to the movie that was released in 2007 entitled Sophie Scholl: The Final Days. Strike three.

I suppose I can admit now that this movie was actually my introduction to Sophie Scholl. After watching the movie I wanted to know more about this girl who had acted so courageously in the face of such strong opposition and such dire consequences. But then, just as now, it was extremely difficult to find a substantial amount of information on this small group of German students and their most famous female member.

Additional sources you may be interested in:

http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Holocaust/rose.html

http://roses-at-noon.blogspot.com/

http://www.raoulwallenberg.net/?en/holocaust/articles/sophie-scholl-white-rose.2786.htm

[Note: The picture seen above is of one of the White Rose monuments in Munich, Germany. This one is located in front of the Bavarian Government building and includes the text one one of the group's anti-war leaflets. The photo was taken in May 2007].

Tags: Sophie Scholl, The White Rose, WWII, Holocaust

Museum London Goes Digital (and It's Not On The Web!)

While working on my museum visit report for Museology I stumbled across a special event going on at Museum London this week that I thought might be of interest to some of you considering the content of our Digital History discussions over the past few weeks.

This Thursday, October 22nd at 7:30pm, Museum London is showing RiP! A Remix Manifesto as part of their film series.

The following is taken in its entirety from the Museum London website (although the hyperlink emphasis is my own):

"In RiP! A Remix Manifesto (Brett Gaylor, 2008, 86 min, 14+), Web activist and filmmaker Brett Gaylor explores issues of copyright in the information age, mashing up the media landscape of the 20th century and breaking down the wall between users and producers. The film's central protagonist is Girl Talk, a mash-up musician topping the charts with his sample-based songs. A participatory media experiment, from day one, Brett shares his raw footage at opensourcecinema.org, for anyone to remix. This movie-as-mash-up method allows these remixes to become an integral part of the film."

Admission for the movie is free, but Brett Gaylor has also set up a pay-what-you-want approach for US residents at ripremix.com. It's nice to see that not only is he walking the walk, but he's talking the talk as far as open source and accessibility go.

We Are Not Alone

On a recent trip to Thailand I spotted this advertisement displayed outside of the October 14th/Democracy Monument in Bangkok:

I’m glad to see that other countries and cultures are concerned with some of the same issues that our graduate program will be examining this year. I only wish I could have read the details on the poster so that I’d have an idea of what the guest speakers would be lecturing on.

Third Time's the Charm...?

I have been agonizing about the beginnings of this blog for weeks. Seriously. I’ve actually lost count of the number of times I loaded this webpage and eagerly clicked on “New Post” only to find myself staring at the white text box and a blinking cursor with no idea how I wanted to go about establishing myself in my own little corner of the World Wide Web.

I think my trepidation stems from the fact that this is not my first kick at the proverbial blogging can. In fact, this is not even my second attempt at a blog. I created my first blog as a procrastination technique during my first essay season of university more than six years ago. Unfortunately, what started merely as a traditional journal in digital form quickly devolved into a slam book of sorts (Baby-sitters Club reference, anyone? Anyone?). Let’s just say that the entries weren’t worth preserving. If memory serves, I deleted the blog long before my first set of exams.

My second foray into the blogosphere started in July 2008 when I decided to try to chronicle the ups and downs of living and working as an ESL teacher in South Korea. The blog, in conjunction with a trusty Flickr account, was my way to stay in touch with friends and family back home who had yet to jump on the Facebook bandwagon. Blogging went smoothly for a couple of months, but eventually it deteriorated into hastily scrawled notes on Post-Its that got “filed” in the junk drawer of my desk and never made it onto the web. After allowing my blog to languish for several months without updates, I finally gave up the ghost and took it down. (In hindsight, perhaps I should have left it up...?)

Which brings us to attempt #3...

Eventually this blog will become a course requirement for History 9808, Dr. William Turkel’s Digital History course, which focuses on representations of history on the web and interactive systems (whatever those are... Do blogs and wikis count?!?). It will act as a forum in which I, along with my peers in the Public History program at UWO, publicly engage in reflective practice. At that time, I suspect that the tone, style, format and content of this blog might change to reflect a significantly more academic bent. Until then, I’d like to use it to explore (rather informally) the concept of public history as I currently understand it.

As a recent graduate of Brock University’s Faculty of Education, I have to admit to cringing inwardly a little at the mention of reflective practice. Since its introduction in Donald Schön’s 1983 book, The Reflective Practitioner, the concept of reflective practice has become one of the cornerstones of teacher training programs in Ontario, including the one at Brock. As such, I’ve written countless reflections over the last five years on topics ranging from teaching techniques to current issues in education to my evolving philosophy of education; the list goes on and on. Although I think the process of reflective practice is generally a valuable one both personally and professionally, I had secretly hoped that I’d done enough reflecting in teacher’s college to last me a lifetime. :) In fairness to the Public History program at UWO, however, this is the first time that I’ll be applying the concept of reflective practice to the discipline of history and in a digital format, so I’m excited to see how this experiment works out.

With that said, I’ll end this entry the same way my 7th grade English teacher, Mr. Blight, ended all of his classes, “Questions? Comments? Statements of brilliance...?” If you’ve got them, feel free to leave them, but please be gentle. This is a learning process. :)